


Plain Evidence

by PJ1228



Series: Evidence and Relations [4]
Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-30
Updated: 2003-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJ1228/pseuds/PJ1228
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick catches the serial killer. A series of dramatic events brings Nick and Lacroix even closer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plain Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belongs to me but to Sony/Tristar and TPTB. I'm just borrowing them temporarily. No infringement intended. No profit is being made.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Doris for beta reading.
> 
> This is the fourth part of my "Evidence"-Series that begins with [A Piece of Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246186) and continues with [Evidence of Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246218) and [Lack of Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246300).
> 
> Warning: I fear my imagination went a little wild with this one. You may want to skip the second paragraph should you not feel comfortable with bondage.

**Plain Evidence**  
by PJ  
September 2003

 

Nick entered the Raven and found his master sitting at the bar. It had been an uneventful night so far. He and Schanke had followed several leads to retrace the whereabouts of their latest victim but all their efforts had been in vain to bring them any closer to the killer. The only thing that kept Nick in a light mood was the anticipation of another day spent in his master's company. They had agreed to meet at the Raven. Lacroix had explained that he had promised to look after the club while Janette was in Paris on some fashion spree.

Seeing his son approach, Lacroix took a second glass from the rack and filled it. "I was just about to examine the different varieties of Janette's stock," he announced passing the glass to Nicholas. "She has some rare treasures hidden in her cellar."

"I thought she asked you to look after her club and not to raid her cellar," Nick admonished him in an amusing tone.

"Of course. But I cannot offer drinks to my guests without checking the quality of the vintages first, can I?"

"I doubt she'd see it that way," Nick remarked smiling. He enjoyed the easy banter between them. It was so wonderful to just talk over a drink without the constant fear of an argument turning into a serious confrontation as it had become their routine in the past. After a pause he said, "She will be quite surprised when she returns." At Lacroix's raised eyebrows he continued, "I mean about us."

"Your sister is a wise woman. She certainly expected this sooner or later," Lacroix stated with conviction.

"Then you think she'll be OK with it?"

"But of course. She always has been in the past."

"At least as long as we don't ruin her rugs," they added in unison.

Nick chuckled. "In that case we better head somewhere else. You said something about your place being safe from intruding mortals?"

Lacroix regarded him with a look that Nick couldn't quite interpret but it caused his heart to beat twice in anticipation. "C'est vrai," he breathed into Nick's ear.

Together they headed out into the night.

* * *

While Nick had visited his father's mansion on occasion, he had never been in his bedroom. Taking his hand, Lacroix led him up the stairwell. As Nick took in the bedroom, he didn't believe his eyes. The room was dominated by a huge wooden bed out of the Louis Quartorze era. The headboard consisted of several exquisitely carved bars.

A memory suddenly sprang to his mind of a night long ago when he was cuffed to the same headboard while his master had taken hours to bring him to exquisite levels of arousal before finally granting him release. "I didn't know you were dragging this along," Nick said, swallowing.

"It's a replica," Lacroix informed him matter-of-factly. "The original was lost in a fire during the French Revolution."

"And have you ever tried it out?" Nick asked hesitantly. "I mean, if the wood has the appropriate endurance?"

"Not yet. Due to a certain lack of willing participants," the elder answered.

The memory of that night elicited a longing in Nick. He studied the headboard again. Then he became aware of his master's questioning glance. He made his decision. "I want it," he whispered with conviction. Eagerly he took off his clothes and lay down in the middle of the bed.

Lacroix had moved to a nearby drawer where he took out several black silk scarves. Then he set down beside his son. He was touched by the look of utter trust he found in his eyes. Never breaking eye-contact, he wrapped one scarf around Nick's left wrist and fastened the other end to one of the wooden bars of the headboard. After repeating the procedure on the other wrist, he reached out and gently caressed the side of Nicholas' face. Then he leaned down and captured his lips in a passionate kiss before placing a blindfold over his eyes.

Being bereft of his eye-sight caused the tiniest flicker of fear to appear in Nick's consciousness. He had known that by giving his consent, he had placed himself at his master's mercy until the elder felt inclined to end the game. He knew that a little fear would only sweeten the experience. Straining his other senses, he tried to get a hint of what would come next. He realized that Lacroix had left the room and heard him move about the house.

After what seemed an eternity, he rather felt than heard him return. Something like a tray was placed on the nightstand. He heard a rustling of clothes. Lacroix was probably undressing himself. Then there was nothing. No sound, no touch, absolutely nothing. Nick realized that his master was probably watching him. The imagination of being watched in his exposed state caused his body to tingle with anticipation.

Suddenly there was the slightest touch of silk on his upper torso. It vanished before he even realized that something had been there. After a minute of waiting for a repetition, he felt it again, this time on his inner thigh. He drew in a shuddering breath. The sensation was magnified by his lack of sight. The next touch occurred at his neck. Then another across his belly, causing his hips to buck up to meet the touch. Lacroix continued to caress his body with a silk scarf, successfully sensitizing every nerve ending, yet never touching the same spot twice. Nick tried to anticipate his next touch but the mind of his master proved to be unreadable. He soon thought he was going crazy with need. He wanted to feel his master's hands on his body, especially on a part that had been left out so far. The light touches made him writhe with desire which caused the bonds to tighten around his wrists.

Finally Lacroix drew the scarf across the centre of his craving. "More," Nick growled through extended fangs. "Please, Lacroix, I need you to touch me!"

"Patience, mon fils. This was just the beginning" the elder stated. He put the silk scarf aside and retrieved another item from the nightstand.

Nick felt a rough cloth, probably a massaging sponge being drawn across his torso. As it made contact with his sensitized nipples, it caused an almost painful sensation. He hissed in response. Yet he tried to press his body against the touch. The heat resulting from the friction quickened Nick's circulation. He thought his body was on fire.

Lacroix drew the cloth in lazy circles across Nick's upper body, then he paused and began at the foot of one leg and worked his way up to the thigh until he reached the hips. Then he turned his attention to the second leg. After another dreadful pause that was filled by Nick's heavy breathing, Lacroix drew the cloth along the length of Nick's arousal.

Nick let out a wild roar at the touch. He yanked at his bonds, but to no avail. The silk proved to be as endurable as the wooden bars of the headboard. Instead of breaking, the silk ropes only tightened more around his wrists, cutting off the circulation.

He heard a clanking noise as Lacroix retrieved another item from the nightstand and then something cold touched his heated body. Lacroix moved what Nick supposed was an ice cube across his torso, leaving a wet path on his skin. Then he felt the cold touch on his lips. As he licked at the refreshing coldness, he realized that it was no ordinary ice cube but frozen blood. He wanted more but Lacroix had already turned his attention back to his torso where he started to lick up the molten fluid. The image of his master licking his smeared body clean while he was denied the sustenance he so desperately needed for his release, was almost more than Nick could bear.

Meanwhile, Lacroix had moved lower, alternating between applying more ice to the skin and lapping his tongue across the same spot.

Suddenly Nick noticed that Lacroix had taken a pause. From the weight on the mattress he gathered that his master must have taken a position between his legs. The anticipation of what he hoped would come next served only to heighten his arousal. Just as Nick thought Lacroix would never continue, he felt the cool touch at the centre of his craving, followed by his master's tongue licking along the same path. After another dreadful pause the manoeuvre was repeated.

Lacroix continued for a while, always shortening the pause between his actions. Then he took all of him into his mouth and began his final attack. By this time Nick had lost all rational thought. He was thrashing wild against his master, paying no heed to the pain at his wrists.

When Nick's thrusts took on a desperate frenzy, Lacroix ceased his actions. He covered Nick's body with his own and removed the blindfold. Feral red eyes met his gaze. Lacroix grabbed a knife from the nightstand and cut the silk ropes in one quick motion. His son was acting on pure instinct now. With a force that would have broken every mortal's neck, he yanked Lacroix's head to the side exposing the vein. He let out an unearthly roar as he buried his fangs into the neck. The blood rushing into his mouth triggered a release more forceful than ever experienced before. He continued to feed heavily from Lacroix and hardly felt his master's bite into his shoulder. Lacroix relived the whole experience through his son's blood which triggered his own climax.

He smiled as his son finally released his neck and drifted into sleep from sheer exhaustion. He placed a gentle kiss on his brow. Oh, what a magnificent child he had created, he thought before allowing himself to drift into sleep.

* * *

The sun had already descended behind the horizon when Nick awoke, feeling utterly exhausted. His muscles were aching from exertion and he felt a numbness in his hands. The reason for the latter became obvious as he raised one arm to get a better look at it. The end of the scarf was still wrapped around his wrist, too tight to allow a healthy blood flow.

A commotion at the door made him look in that direction. He saw his master entering, carrying a bottle and two glasses. He was already dressed.

Lacroix placed the items on the nightstand and sat down beside his child. Nicholas smiled at him, a sheepish expression on his face. Lacroix reached out and began to untie the scarves from Nick's wrists. Ugly black bruises became visible where the silk had cut into the flesh. "I'm afraid this will take a while to heal," Lacroix informed him after a close examination. "How do you feel?"

Nick sighed. How did he feel? "I don't know," he answered in a raspy voice. "Wonderful, exhausted, and scared."

Lacroix raised his eyebrows. "Scared?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice. Had he gone too far? If Nicholas was scared of him, that would be a huge setback in their relationship. This had not been his intention.

"Yeah. You know, at one point I let go completely and the vampire took over. It was kind of scary to be so totally out of control. But I trusted you to be there for me at the right moment."

Lacroix was relieved. His child wasn't scared of him but of his own true nature. That was something he could deal with. "Do not concern yourself with your fears, mon fils. I will always be there to watch over you." He filled a glass and handed it to Nicholas.

"What time is it?" Nick asked pushing himself up to a sitting position and emptying the glass in one swallow.

"8 p.m.," Lacroix informed him while refilling the glass.

"Already? I'm late for work. I better get going before Schanke puts out an APB on me."

"Are you sure you are in a condition to go to work?" Lacroix asked in a serious tone.

"Of course I am," Nicholas stated with emphasis. "I'm just feeling a little sore, that's all." He got up, grabbed his pile of clothes and limped into the bathroom.

* * *

Schanke looked up as Nick reached his desk. "Boy, you look awfully pale today," he stated. "Are you all right?"

Nick slumped into his chair. He felt better than at the beginning of the night but his muscles were still aching all over. The bruises at his wrists had turned from black to deep purple and were still very evident. He just hoped that they remained well hidden under his shirt sleeves. "I'm fine," he assured Schanke. "Just lack of sleep."

That moment Captain Cohen called from her door: "Knight, Schanke, we have another one. Harbourfront Park, ME's en route."

"OK, we are on it," Schanke called back.

"Detectives, solve this soon," she ordered.

* * *

Natalie had just finished her prelim as she saw Schanke approach with Nick slowly trailing behind. That was odd because usually Nick was the first one at the scene.

"Hi, Nat," Schanke greeted her. "What have we got?"

"Victim number three I'd say from what I've gathered so far. Same MO, according to a gardener, she couldn't have lain here longer than one hour."

"OK, I'm going to talk to the guy who found her," Schanke announced.

Nick crouched down beside the victim and inhaled deeply. The heavy blood scent made him dizzy for a moment. Before he realized what he was doing, he had dipped his finger into the pool of coagulating blood.

"Are you out of your mind? What do you think you're doing?" he heard Natalie whisper in an angry tone.

"I'm trying to solve a murder," he stated and raised the coated finger to his mouth only to find his wrist firmly snatched by Natalie.

Nat noticed his slight flinch as she grabbed his wrist. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said trying to pull his arm free.

She shoved up his sleeve to take a closer look at his arm and gasped as she saw the dark bruise around his wrist. "Oh my God, Nick, what happened?"

"It's nothing," he repeated, slightly embarrassed, for the memory stirred the first inklings of arousal in him. "It will heal."

Nat looked him straight in the face. He seemed uncomfortable about something. Suddenly a terrible suspicion rose in her. "It was him, right? You were in a fight again. What did he do to you?"

Nick looked at her askance. She was totally wrong but how could he explain that to her? "Nat, leave it, OK? No harm was done."

She let it go for now. "Do you want to tell me then what you wanted with the victim's blood?" she asked instead.

Nick sighed. She was persistent. "I never told you about the blood, did I?" At her confused look he continued, "Every drop of blood has your whole life in it. As long as it's fresh, we can taste images and emotions in it. This blood is still relatively fresh. If the victim has seen who killed her, there's a chance that I might get a glimpse of the killer by tasting her blood."

Natalie didn't know if she should be fascinated or repulsed by his explanation. This was something he had never mentioned to her before. She wondered how often he had taken a sip without her noticing.  
Suddenly a thought struck her. "You've done that before. That's how you knew about the razor blade."

"Yeah," he admitted. "But that victim had been grabbed from behind. She never saw who attacked her."

"I don't know, Nick. Doesn't sound to me like normal police procedure."

"Nat, we have no clue so far about who's killing these girls. Don't you think it's worth a try if it helps to catch a killer before he strikes again?"

He had a point there. She silently watched as he bent down again and dipped his finger into the pool. He quickly licked it off and retreated into the shadows.

Nick sorted through the images: A day at the lake shore, meeting a new acquaintance, going home, dressing up for a date, returning to Harbourfront Park, waiting for the date, suddenly hearing a noise from behind, turning around, seeing the face of the afternoon acquaintance, the shock of noticing the blade, a futile attempt to escape, then blackness.

Nick focused on the image of the man and committed it to memory. Then he turned around, casting a triumphant glance towards Natalie and went in search for Schanke.

While waiting for his partner to finish the interview with the gardener, he let his gaze wander across the crowd of bystanders who had been attracted by the commotion in the Park. Suddenly he recognized the face of the man he had seen in the vision. As he focused on him, the man suddenly turned and escaped into the Park. "Schanke, I think we've found our guy," Nick shouted to his perplexed partner and ran after the fugitive. As he reached the shadows, he took to the air.

* * *

Lacroix paused in his broadcast. He had received all kinds of various emotions from his son tonight. The exhilarating feeling he projected now meant only one thing: Nicholas was hunting. What if last night's actions had brought instincts to the surface his son couldn't control? He better looked after him before he did something he would regret later on.

Lacroix quickly ended the call he was receiving right now and took to the air, heading towards the lake shore.

* * *

Nick was totally caught up in the hunt. The rapid heartbeat of his intended prey made his senses tingle with anticipation. He grabbed him from behind and bent the head to the side exposing the neck. With a roar, he bared his fangs. Before he could strike, he felt a presence behind him.

"Nicholas, no!" Lacroix commanded. As delighted as he was to see his child committing to his nature, he was sure that Nicholas would only immerse himself in his guilt when he realized what he was doing. He couldn't afford to let him slip into that mood again. Gently but distinctly he pulled Nicholas from the mortal who fainted to the ground and offered him his own throat. With the swiftness of an experienced hunter Nicholas buried his fangs into his neck and began to drink hungrily.

After a while Nick came back to his senses. "What are you doing here?" he asked slightly confused. Then he noticed the mortal on the ground. "Oh no, did I?" he asked horrified.

"No, you did not, Nicholas. But you wanted to. I told you you were probably in no condition to go to work tonight," Lacroix admonished him.

"I didn't realize," Nick whispered. "Thanks for holding me back."

They heard approaching footsteps. "Nick, are you there?" Schanke's voice sounded close.

"Over here, Schanke," Nick called back, then he turned to Lacroix. "You need to go. I'm all right now."

"I'll see you later then," the elder replied and dropped a kiss onto his son's brow. Then he vanished into the sky.

"I love you," Nick whispered to the empty spot.

Schanke came to a halt, breathing heavy from the run. He found his partner staring into the sky, an odd expression on his face. "Nick?" he asked.

"That's our guy. He must have stumbled," Nick said pointing at the unconscious man on the ground.

"Do you want to tell me how you know that this is our guy?" Schanke asked.

"Let's call it 'suspicious behaviour at the crime scene' for now," Nick supplied.

* * *

"Detective Schanke tells me you arrested this man because he tried to flee from the crime scene. I hope you have more evidence to connect him to the killings?" Captain Cohen asked Nick in the observation room.

Nick studied the man through the observation glass. He knew that he was guilty but how could he convince his fellow officers? "Let's hear what he has to say," Nick suggested.

"Nothing reasonable, if you ask me," Schanke said. "Kept screaming about red-eyed demons as he woke up."

They entered the interview room. According to his papers the man's name was Ted Wilkins and he worked for a boat rental service at the lake. He tensed as he saw Nick enter. Schanke sat down at the table opposite the man while Nick remained standing with his back to the wall.

After starting the tape, Schanke began the questioning. "Mr. Wilkins, why did you run from the crime scene?"

"When I noticed this detective staring at me, I got nervous," Wilkins said.

"Was there a reason?" Schanke inquired further.

"If you had seen that look, you would have run, too. No matter if you had something to hide or not."

Schanke had to admit that he had a point there. His partner was capable of scaring the hell out of people by simply looking at them. However, Nick was seldom wrong when he played one of his hunches. "That didn't answer my question," Schanke pointed out. "Perhaps you should tell us what you did at the crime scene."

"I was curious. There were other bystanders as well. Why did you pick me, anyway?" He sounded irritable.

Nick had enough of the slow progress of the interview. He left his position at the wall. "You are not being very co-operative, Mr. Wilkins," he said. "If you are the innocent you claim to be, you could shorten your stay here with us by giving plain and open answers. Understood?" he asked, leaning closer to the arrested who shrank away. Satisfied with the reaction, he continued, "So, why were you in the park? The boat rental had closed hours before."

"I was on an evening stroll."

"You were waiting for someone," Nick said, focusing on the heartbeat.

"Yes," came the monotonous answer.

"You had a date with the dead girl."

"Yes."

"Where did you meet her?"

"I met her in the afternoon. She had rented a boat at my station."

"And you asked her for a date in the evening?"

"Yes."

"Why her?"

"She reminded me of my fiancée."

"As did the other girls?"

"Yes."

"Why did you kill them?"

"My fiancée had left me. As I saw them waiting for me, all dressed up, I was reminded of the night she left. I didn't want that to happen again. It was so humiliating. So I had to stop her. It was the only way to break the cycle."

Nick released him from his control and retreated to his former position at the wall.

Schanke shook his head. Sometimes his partner's conclusions were a little too weird for him to follow. He wasn't quite sure how his partner had done it but they obviously had a confession on tape.

Wilkins broke out into sobs. "I didn't want to harm anyone. I only wanted her to stay with me."

* * *

Nick and Schanke met Captain Cohen and Natalie in the observation room. Nick noticed the dark glance Nat shot at him. She had obviously followed the interview through the screen.

"He confessed," Schanke announced.  
"Good work, Detectives," Cohen stated. "Dr. Lambert tells me there was enough skin under the victim's nails for a DNA test. That and his testimony should be sufficient to keep him off the streets for a long time."

Nick was detained by Natalie from following Schanke and his Captain out of the room. "I don't want to criticize you, Nick, but don't you think you're pushing it a little too far?"

"Nat, I knew he was guilty. Why wait until he conjures up a tale of fiction when there's a straighter way?"

"But you were pretty obvious in there, hypnotising him right in front of Schanke."

"It was obvious only to you because you knew what I was doing. I assure you nobody else suspected anything."

"I don't know, Nick. I can't say I like this attitude. This guy never had a chance."

Nick looked at her, incredulous. "Why should he have a chance? He's guilty. Does it really matter by what kind of procedure he's convicted? I assure you the DNA test will be positive if that makes you feel better." Not waiting for a reply, he opened the door and proceeded towards his desk.

It hit him without warning. A burning sensation in his chest caused him to double over before he could reach his desk. The pain was so intense that he thought he would lose consciousness. And then there was nothing. Nothing but a terrible void where the presence of his master used to linger.

A crowd had gathered around him, the beating hearts clearly distracting him as he tried to get his bearings. Then Natalie was beside him while Schanke tried to shoo the onlookers away. "OK folks, give the doctor some room here, will ya?"

As the heartbeats retreated except for two, Nick tried to focus on what had just happened.

"Nick, can you hear me?" Nat asked, very concerned.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position. "Lacroix," he whispered. "Something happened to Lacroix."

"What's he talking about, Nat?" Schanke asked, confused.

"I need to get out of here," Nick said and rose, still shaking, from the floor.

The same moment the desk sergeant called across the bullpen, "Captain, there's been an explosion at the CERK radio station. Several squad cars are on their way. They suspect that there is at least one person dead."

Nick rushed out of the precinct and took to the air.

* * *

He landed on the roof of the CERK building. The explosion must have been restricted to the studio. He entered through a broken window and searched frantically through the rubble, lifting debris, not caring if anyone saw him. He could feel something very faint. That gave him hope that he wasn't too late.

Finally he found him. The body badly burned and a piece of wood protruding from his chest, obviously splintered from some furniture by the explosion. Nick yanked the piece free. Then he bit deeply into his wrist and let the blood drip into Lacroix's mouth.

He waited anxiously but there was no reaction. "No, Lacroix, please, don't leave me!" he pleaded.

He had to get him out of here before the search crews found them. Carefully picking up the battered form of his master, he flew to the loft, reaching it at the same time as Natalie stepped out of the elevator.

"Oh my God, Nick, what happened?"

"He caught a piece of wood in his chest. I removed it but he's not waking up."

After placing his master gently on the rug before the fireplace, he retrieved a knife from the kitchen and sliced first his wrist and then Lacroix's. He pressed their wounds together. "Come back to me, Lucien," he whispered urgently.

Still no reaction.

"Something's wrong. Why isn't he waking up?" Nick asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

Natalie was astounded at the increasing panic that registered on Nick's face. "Let me take a look at the wound," she suggested.

Nick unbuttoned what was left of Lacroix's shirt while Natalie searched in her bag for the appropriate instruments. The chest wound had not healed at all. It was very close to the heart. Natalie carefully probed into the wound. All the while Nick was stroking Lacroix's head in gentle caresses.

After a while Nat announced, "There's still a splinter inside. It's touching the heart."

Nick started to panic. This was not good. "Remove it!" he ordered. "But be careful not to shove it further in," he added, his tone almost threatening.

"Calm down, Nick! You're making me nervous. I'll try, OK?" She took a pair of tweezers and carefully probed the wound again. Finally she was able to pull the splinter out. Nick let out a sigh of relief. He knew that a wound to the heart would take time to heal but at least now his master had a chance. He fervently hoped it was not too late.

The thought of losing him was unbearable. He realized that Lacroix had been the only constant in his long life. To go on without him seemed to be impossible. He felt as if a part of himself had been ripped out. If this was how Lacroix had felt each time he had tried out another cure...

Tears slid down his face. He slung his arms around Lacroix's body and silently sobbed until exhaustion caused him to drift into sleep.

Natalie was stunned. She had thought that hate was the predominant emotion in the relationship between Nick and Lacroix. But judging from his behaviour, there was no denial that Nick cared deeply for his father.

She was a little unsure if she should stay but she didn't want to leave Nick alone in his desperate state. So she settled on the couch and waited in case her medical abilities were required again.

* * *

The first thing Lacroix felt was a frantic desperation. He realized that the emotion was coming from his son. He needed to console him but he couldn't move. His body was caught in a tight embrace. There was a face almost touching his own. Lacroix noticed that it was covered with blood tears. He opened his mouth and began to lick at the strains.

Nick awoke when he felt a tongue licking along his cheeks. "Lucien?" he asked, suddenly wide awake. "Oh God, I thought I had lost you." He bit into his wrist again and placed it over his master's mouth. This time he was rewarded with a sucking sensation. Then somewhat unexpectedly his arm was shoved away. Strong hands pulled his neck to the hungry mouth and he felt Lacroix's fangs enter his vein.

Natalie woke on the couch as she heard a commotion in front of the fireplace. She glanced to the pair on the floor and gasped as she saw Lacroix sinking his fangs into Nick's neck. Her first instinct was to rescue Nick from the attack but the look of sheer ecstasy on Nick's face made her stop dead in her tracks.

A feeling of total bliss settled in Nick as Lacroix continued to drink from him. He felt whole again. His master took quite an amount but Nick didn't pull back. He would have given him everything now.

Finally his neck was released, leaving him a little dizzy. He raised his head and looked deep into Lacroix's eyes. Then he bent down and captured Lacroix's lips with his own. Lacroix returned the kiss with ardour before exhaustion caused both of them to pause.

The last thing that Nick's consciousness registered before drifting into sleep was the closing of the lift door.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> This storyline is continued in [Circumstantial Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/247359).


End file.
